Hermione Granger and the Irresponsible Boys
by Josephine Stone
Summary: Hermione is a friendless Ravenclaw, but she has too much studying to do to be bothered by that; if Potter and Weasley would study more and rush into suicidal adventures less, then she might get it done; but with incompetent professors letting them by, and Malfoy pushing her to join him in catching them red-handed... well, it would be nice to know they were safe in detention.


Most of the world, places, and characters contained here are the creation of J.K. Rowling. For the What if challenge located here: www . fanfiction topic / 44309 / 74425345 / 9 / #83664814 What if Hermione was a Ravenclaw, with the prompts irony, break up, breath mint, "You're going to need a therapist after this.", trick or treat.

* * *

Hermione tried to block out the chatter around her. Her left hand trembled as it hovered over her broom. 'Up, up!' Everyone else mastered the first part during the first lesson. 'Up!' There was no confidence in her voice and no matter how many times she went over the tips she read in _Quidditch Through The Ages_, her broom was reluctant to come to her. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths trying to calm her jittering stomach.

Weasley's voice broke out in the middle of the others. 'He'd never flown before last week.' They were talking about _Harry Potter_ and his acceptance—which she thought unacceptable—on the Gryffindor team. 'Never even heard of Quidditch, until I told him about it.'

'If that is true', Hermione said without opening her eyes, 'the school should be sued for negligence.' She didn't need her eyes to tell that earned her glares from everyone. The silence was like electricity in the air around her. How no one else could see the problem with favouring one student over all the others infuriated Hermione. Just because he was famous—no she wasn't going there. She shook out her hair and tried bring her concentration back to her broom. The only bit of magic she had problems with yet.

'You'll see.' Weasley flew in small jerking bursts, until he came up next to her. 'He'll be the best seeker _as well as_ the youngest in over a century.'

Or the youngest player dead in over a century.

'Up.' The broom jumped into Hermione's hand. Relieved she climbed on the floating broom and ignored the rest of the class as she reminded herself to _not_ look down. She stared toward the castle until she found a spot to concentrate on and felt herself rise and move forward toward the random brick she watched.

How anyone could accept the blatant disregard for a school rule Hermione never understood. People hoping he'd fail, so they could win she understood. Gryffindor hoping people would go easy on him because he was a first year, she understood. The teachers putting a child in danger she could not understand. To concentrate on a game the flying had to be second nature. Even if he practiced every day, it wouldn't be an ingrained habit by his first game. _Unless_, he really had been practicing since before he attended Hogwarts. In which case, he would have been breaking the _law_ and shouldn't be rewarded for it.

Madam Hooch walked around, gave tips to all the students, marked their progress, and headed toward Hermione. Hermione tried to not let it effect her, but she felt herself loose a inch or two of air under the Madam's stare. Hermione's eyes dropped to her hands which had lost all their colour. Even Madam Hooch okayed Potter to play. It made Hermione's stomach twist every time an adult came near her. How could they teach her, if she couldn't bring herself to trust them?

'Look at me, Ms Granger.' Madam Hooch stood in front of her with a disappointed look. Hermione dragged her gaze from her white fingers to Madam Hooch's face who continued, 'Watch my eyes and concentrate on breathing; just breathing.'

She did and then her heart beat began its slow crawl back to normal; As her heart rate dropped, her panic subsided and she let the muscles in her arms relax, but kept her grip tight around the top of the broom. Madam Hooch had yellow eyes. It was a strange sight for Hermione. They reminded her of animals and she wondered what it meant. Was Madam part magical creature, or did she charm them that way to be different? They were frightening, to Hermione at least, and maybe that was the effect she was going for.

'Whoa!' Weasley's voice broke through her thoughts. 'You're almost as high as I am.'

Hermione figured it was supposed to be a complement, but his tone was condescending. How could a Muggleborn compete in their world? It was in everyone's voice and painted in all of their expressions. Shock and congratulations at the smallest accomplishments. She broke eye contact with Madam Hooch to see how high they were. Weasley wavered just above her, then she looked back to see the Madam _below_ her.

'Don't look down!' They both warned her, but it was too late.

Hermione fell. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out as stomach flipped and she braced herself for the impact that never came. Madam Hooch casted a quick spell which caught her just before she hit the ground and floated her to the grass with a soft thump. Her world spun regardless. She tried to get up to run knowing she'd lose the contents of her stomach soon, but tripped and landed a few inches from Madam Hooch's white boots. The she vomited all over them. Without a sound Madam vanished the mess Hermione made and by time Hermione gathered the courage to look up all she saw was the backs of her classmates headed toward the castle. She sighed sat back and let her fingers run through the grass as though to convince herself the ground was really there, before she fished in her pocket for a breath mint and stood to follow them.

#

In the mornings she waited for Su Li to sneak out of the room, before she got out of bed herself. Since she bathed at night and everyone else slept until breakfast, she had plenty of time to herself in the mornings. She dressed, gathered her things for the day, and headed to the library. A fifth year sat reading by the fire, a group of third years were quizzing each other on potion ingredients on the floor in front of him, and a couple of seventh years were snogging in a window while attempting to hide behind the curtains. Once she reached the halls it was silent. She loved the castle at this time. It felt all her own.

Hermione often wanted to wonder, to map out every inch of it, but she had work to do. Maybe some other day. In the library she sat at her usual seat near a window, so she could watch the sun rise (or set depending on the time of day) when her eyes hurt from reading.

Someone walked in behind her and she looked over her shoulder to see Draco Malfoy slip back into his usual spot by a window a few down from her own. His cheeks and nose were raw, his robes had bits of leaves stuck in random places, but his hair looked as though he just fixed it. Hermione wished she had the nerve to ask him what he used; it might be the only thing strong enough to tame her own. If he could fly every morning and, from the looks of it, fall off his broom, without so much as a hair out of place, it was just what she needed.

Hannah, her best friend at home, was the one to help her with her hair; she picked out her products and showed her how to fix it. She'd have to figure out something soon, though, because she was about out of all the muggle products she brought with her.

Malfoy noticed her looking at him and shot her a glare. She dropped her gaze back down to her books. Perhaps she could make her own hair products? Then it wouldn't be a total waste of time; she'd be learning and getting something she needed. She was ahead in all of her classes, so it was the best time to start and she might be able to find something to turn her frizzy hair into manageable curls. She looked around to make sure no one noticed her—how vain was it to look in the beauty section?—but the only person she knew was Malfoy and he was concentrating on his transfiguration book.

There were many books on the topic: _Advanced Beauty Potions to Make Anyone Fall In Love With You_, _Creative Mixtures to Fix the Unfixable_, _Bathroom Potions for Beginners_. She decided on _Simple Potions for the Simple Witch._

She skipped the chapters on lotions, perfumes, and blemish removers, and found what she was looking for in the chaptered called _Hair Do's_. Hermione rolled her eyes, then marked her place and left to check out everything she'd gathered that morning before anyone she knew walked in.

#

'All colours', she repeated the password she'd used since the first day; the one the prefect who showed them their dorms had used.

'Sorry', the portrait said, 'That is not a suitable answer.'

Hermione paused. 'Sorry, what was the question?'

'What destroys to create?'

'What?' Hermione's eyes widened. She never put too much thought into the password before; she'd thought it was clever, but never thought she'd be unable to come up with a clever answer for it.

The question was repeated, but Hermione stood frozen unable to think of anything to say.

Just then Mandy and Lisa stepped out of the doorway and Hermione, thinking quickly, acted as though the door opened to let her in.

'Sorry, just coming back to drop off some books.' She tried to shut up, but her nerves keep her going. 'Are you on your way to breakfast?'

'Yeah', Lisa answered as Mandy gave her a sideways look. Hermione never started idle chit-chat and tended to shy away from conversations elsewhere whenever someone attempted it with her. 'We'll see you there.'

Hermione ran upstairs with her head down trying to hide the blush she knew covered her face, and dropped her books on her bed. Their room was empty as she switched the books she gathered with the ones she needed for the day. No pleasure reading; school work was more important. She hesitated on _Simple Potions for the Simple Witch_. She needed to start the potions soon and if she left the book she might not get it back for a while. She shoved it to the bottom of her bag, then took a deep breath before she headed out to breakfast.

#

In Herbology, Hermione sat as close to Professor Sprout as possible. In this one class everyone was reluctant to get too close to the front, so she sat next to Draco Malfoy. He sat up front no matter who was teaching. They were beginning a new lesson.

They were to grow a herb garden.

A regular, everyday herb garden full of things she _knew_. They'd use the herbs they grew next term in their own potions. Hermione loved it. How well she did in one class transferring over into how well she'd do in another. Seeing how Potions depended on Herbology. The soil was the same and she dug her fingers in it with pleasure a smile inching across her face. Malfoy was not as pleased, but he never groan or moaned or complained like the Slytherins behind him. Fresh soil smelled wonderful and she took her time breaking up the clumps and measuring how far apart to plant the seeds. She was the only girl not to scream or giggle about adding the worms and the only one who knew the purpose.

'Beautiful, Ms Granger', Professor Sprout said. 'Have you planted herbs before?'

'Oh yes', Hermione said. 'My parents grow all our vegetables and herbs themselves in our front garden.' She'd been planting with them for years. Health, especially with food—because of the damage food caused teeth—, was their top priority. Her friends always raved about the food at her house, as even the simplest recipes tasted better when made with fresh ingredients.

'You must send them my compliments then', Professor Sprout continued, 'They taught you well.'

Hermione beamed at the praise, even if it was a trivial thing. Only Malfoy's box rivalled hers, but his concern with getting his hands dirty had him use spells he had yet to perfect. He spent more time perfecting the spell then planting his seeds. When Hermione looked up from her pot, she saw the rest of the class had dispersed. None of the ingredients for her hair potions were hard to find, but Hermione was positive Professor Sprout would have them all and it would be much easier to get them from her than search the grounds for them.

'Professor.' Hermione hesitated as Professor Sprout looked up and waited for her to continue. She never liked asking for things. 'I was wondering if you could help me.'

'Of course, with what?'

'Gathering ingredients for a few potions.' Hermione twisted her fingers as she spoke. 'It's just, you see, it's not for class... there just for me.'

'I'm sure it will be no problem. What do you need?'

Hermione handed her the list and Professor Sprout chuckled. 'Oh, I give these out all the time. They are very inexpensive in Hogsmade, but you won't be able to go there until third year. I keep plenty on hand.' Sprout headed to the front of the greenhouse and pulled out big wood crates full of the aloe leaves and the various plants she needed. 'Don't worry about it, Ms Granger. If you feel you must pay me back for it, you can grow some as extra credit with your herbs.'

'Yes, that'd be great.'

#

'What are you brewing?' Myrtle hovered above Hermione in a good mood for once.

Hermione sighed as she added the aloe leaves and tried to concentrate while having a conversation. 'I'm running out of shampoo, so I looked up how to make it.'

Myrtle nodded. 'I asked my parents to send me some my first year, but, as usual, they forgot all about it. So I stole a catalogue from one of my roommates and owl-ordered it.' Myrtle glared in the distance as though watching it all happen to her again. 'I still went a month without it, before it arrived and my hair was all greasy and horrible to brush. Some _boy_ threw food at me and it got stuck in my hair.' She looked about to cry again, but turned to see Hermione watching her and stopped. 'At least, I didn't die then, or I would've been stuck with it forever.'

Hermione laughed, glad Myrtle found humour in the situation before it became another melt down, and then read the next step for her potion.

'I'm not sure if any of my roommates have any catalogues.' She dropped the next batch of chopped up leaves into her potion. It was very thick and dark green. 'I'm sure they ask their parents for these sort of things.'

'What about your parents?'

Hermione startled at the question. No one ever asked about her parents; no one ever even mentioned them. 'I don't want to bother them', she answered. 'They're busy.'

#

Hermione screamed, dropped the hair potion she made the day before, but didn't jump nor flinched when it shattered on the floor too shocked at what she saw in the mirror. Her hair was _red_. _Weasley_ red and short. _Boy _short. What did she do wrong? She looked over the potion again and again, but she couldn't find what she did wrong.

Myrtle giggled above her and if Hermione was not so distraught (and had she'd bothered to learn any) she'd hex her. It didn't matter all that matter was fixing it, which meant the library. It was late maybe no one would be there, or no one would recognise her. Or, more likely, she was so beneath their notice they wouldn't bother nor remember her the next day.

She got back into her school clothes, grabbed her things, and then ran to the library. She didn't bother to find a spot just ran toward the section she needed only to run into someone and fall over. It was a Gryffindor boy, so she wasn't surprised that he didn't bother to help her up just glared at her and walked on. What surprised her was that _he_, Lisa Turpin's crush, as Hermione called him in her head, was in the _library_. Once she pulled herself up, she saw why. He, Cormac McLaggen, was flirting with a third year Hufflepuff girl, Hermione didn't know the name of. She shook her head at him and walked the rest of the way to the book shelves.

Hermione scanned the bookshelves and then the contents of the books looking for something that could help her.

'Granger?' Malfoy was beside her squinting at her face.

'I have no idea what you're talking about.'

'It _is_ you? Isn't it?' He studied her a moment longer before deciding it was her. 'What happened to your hair?' He laughed.

'I _don't_ want to talk about it.' She shoved the book she was reading back on the shelf and grabbed the next one. Her hands were steady and angry, but her voice gave her away with her next sentence. 'Why don't you leave me alone?'

Malfoy held up his hands in self-defence. 'Sorry, I—Oh, Merlin, don't cry.'

It was too late she was crying. She was stuck with that _stupid_ hair, because she didn't know anything about what she was doing.

'Okay, all right.' Malfoy said as though he was trying to calm a wild animal instead of a sobbing girl. It almost made her laugh. Malfoy sighed and pinch the bridge of his nose as though he was in pain, before he continued, 'What did you put in it?'

She looked up at him trying to calm herself enough to see if he would only make fun of her if she told him. He seemed willing to help, and she had no other option so she took a deep breath and pick the book out of her bag, flipped to the page and handed it to him. She blushed horrified that she messed up a spell from a book with the word 'simple' in the title.

Malfoy smirked at the page and Hermione grabbed the book from him. 'Forget it. I'll figure it out on my own.' She grabbed her things and turned to leave, but stopped when Malfoy said, 'I have something that will take that right out.' She refused to turn around, but heard Malfoy take a few steps closer to her. 'You can have it; I have plenty.'

She turned around and studied his face. He'd never been mean to her; he ignored her mostly. She knew his was prejudice against her, but wasn't sure if he knew she was a muggleborn. Would he have talked to her at all, if he did? It could have been a trick, but how much worse could her hair be then it already was? She nodded and he gestured for her to follow him.

At the desk he was working at he shifted through his bag and handed her a small bottle. 'It holds more than it looks like. You should only need five drops.'

Hermione nodded again and began to calm down. 'Will you be here long?'

Malfoy shrugged. 'Another hour or so.'

'I'll bring it right back.' He nodded and she ran off to try it.


End file.
